Of Mountains, Sunsets and Fabergé Eggs
by TheRedHerring760
Summary: "Red..." Lizzie warns, taking a step back "Why do you constantly put me in these positions?" her jaw clenches, as her arms cross over her chest. "It amuses me" Red smirks as he wraps his fingers around her elbow. Gently pulling her toward the his car. "We must hurry Lizzie, time is of the essence" - Red and Lizzie travel together. (One-Shot)


Disclaimer : I own absolutely 0% of The Blacklist. These are stolen toys from Brokenkamp's treasure trove. I'm just borrowing them, giving them a go, and then I promise they will be returned into their proper positions once finished.

No inspiration was drawn from a song this time around, just a muse whispering upon my shoulder.

* * *

Liz sits along the Lincoln Memorial steps, staring across at the pool of the Washington Monument and the glossy reflections the water picked up. She watches as the tourist took unimaginative pictures of themselves holding the Monument in their palms, or awkwardly pretending to lean against it. She takes a deep inhale of the brisk air, and the indefinable smells escaping from the food truck from across the street. Some kind of spin on a taco from what Liz can gather from the image along side the neon blue side. Leaning to the right, she digs into her pocket and fishes out her phone to check the time. Liz had been sitting here for well over an hour.

Shifting uncomfortable on the rough cement, she contemplates leaving. Whenever Red decides to show up, he could call her, perhaps apologize in a halfhearted manner. Giving Liz the chance to then throw his own wise crack words back at him. Which he just previously imparted onto her about punctuality.

_What a hypocrite._

She reclines back onto her elbows, and rolls her eyes knowing she wasn't going to be leaving. Another fifteen minutes pass quickly, and it was fully dark now. Even the sun seemed to give up hope on Reddington showing.

It were only her, Lincoln, and a few tourist still intently studying the wordings on the walls.

She is just about to call him when the Mercedes pulls up to the curb. He exits smoothly, flinging his scarf around his neck, and Liz can't refrain from siting up a little straighter as he walks over to her. Slowly climbing the steps, studying her, feeling the water before he dives in. "You're late," She groans as she stands, her limbs aching. "You're more than late."

"I got caught up in something." He mentions nonchalantly and the anger sparks in her center. But she smothers it to give him the chance to explain himself. Which of course, never comes.

"You could have called Red," She bites out, with more hostility present than she intends. "It's really that simple."

"Lizzie," He breathes her name out softly, and shakes his head. "Nothing is ever _that simple. _There are things we need to discuss..."

"What kind of things?" She huffs, her shoulders falling forward. "Why couldn't this wait until tomorrow?"

"Because it requires us leaving, tonight." His voice lowers as the people from inside travel down the steps surrounding them. "The contact who made Dembe and I late, is being stubborn. He's a real pigheaded man, refuses to offer details through me without meeting the courier he is intrusting with his _things._" Red emphasizes the word, as a little boy takes a seat within earshot of them. His parents snapping a picture of him and Lincoln, gleefully telling him ways to pose.

"So what am I meant to do?" She questions exasperated, shuffling on her feet. Not completely happy with the thought of flying out of DC tonight.

"You are to act as the courier." His smile that he grants her is laced with a mischievous glint that reaches upward subsiding into his eyes. "All you have to do is be present, and be convincing should any questions arise. I'll handle everything else."

"Red..." Lizzie warns, taking a step back "Why do you constantly put me in these positions?" her jaw clenches, as her arms cross over her chest.

"It amuses me," Red smirks as he wraps his fingers around her elbow. Gently pulling her toward the his car. "We must hurry Lizzie, time is of the essence."

_0o0o0_

She gazes out of the window of the jet, as Red talked animatedly in what sounded like German over his satellite phone. She's thankful it wasn't understandable to her, because Liz is one hundred percent certain she was now a witness to several strikes against her jurisdiction.

She turns her head and glances at him when the conversation grew heated. Red leaned forward and the buttons he previously opened, spread further apart exposing a dusting of chest hair.

Liz diverts her eyes quickly, staring back out of the window. Watches as they passed over the brightly lit city.

She never got a chance to ask where they were off to, Red had busied himself the moment they set foot inside his vehicle. If Liz ever thought that she had busy days that never came to a halt, Red's must feel like they were everlasting. He has literally been on his phone for a full three hours. Three hours of arguing with only a few second breaks in between.

Liz's throat grew coarse just thinking of his own.

Dembe passes by and hands Red a leather journal, taking his now empty beer from the holder. Liz reaches out and catches him by the wrist, "Is it always like this?" She whispers to him, nodding in Red's direction. Dembe's face breaks into a tight grin as he simply nods. "What a damn headache." she mutters releasing her soft grip on him. In the corner of her vision she can see Red run a hand over his stubbly hair. Rubbing down his cheek in aggravation as he silently listened to whatever shouting was taking place on the other end. The phone pulled from his ear to make it tolerable.

She stands, and he watches as she makes for the back of the jet, "Dembe," she calls moving behind the thick curtain that divided this half of the jet from the other.

"Mrs. Keen?" He turns to face her, setting an electrical tea pot to boil. "Everything alright?"

"Since Red is wrapped up in his _business_, perhaps you could tell me where exactly we are flying off to?" She rests her hip on the edge of the counter, where snacks sat in a wicker basket. She fiddles through the bags, a variety of things she wasn't interested in, and pouts.

"Innsbruck, Austria." Dembe smirks as his hand reaches forward beside her head and slides a hidden cabinet upward revealing a wide array of chocolates and other boxes of candy. Her eyes light up in sheer happiness causing the always quiet man to laugh. A deep rumble, and Liz can't recall ever hearing such a sound from him. "We very rarely are able to leave Belgium without making a pit stop in Brussels, for these petite truffles he adores. Raymond has a terrible sweet tooth as you can see."

"I always thought Switzerland had the best chocolate." She muses, trailing a finger over a box pale green box with no label Dembe pointed out.

"They do. I know many dignified chocolatiers located there." His voice that was now rough around the edges from the constant use startles her. Liz turns and faces him and his disheveled state. The phone call obviously taking a toll on him. "However, there is this wonderful woman in Brussels who has a magical ability when it comes to creating confectionery items." He reaches around her, trapping her between the counter and himself and grabs the box that previously grabbed her attention. "Luckily for you, I have not been granted the time to savour this box yet." He lifts the lid, and her sense of smell is instantly occupied with the scent of heavy cocoa, the lightly dusted morsels captivating her. Her mouth instantly begins to water in anticipation.

"What's inside this one?" She questions her finger hovering over a perfectly shaped milk chocolate oval with white chocolate lines that zig zag over the top.

"I typically have her surprise me, so your guess is as good as mine." Red shrugs a tense shoulder and watches as she lifts it from the box, and smells the shell.

"There are hints of vanilla, and a nut, maybe almond." She smiles broadly. His eyes trained to her every movement as her fingers held it before her lips.

Time seems to hitch as they stare into each others eyes, her tongue sweeping out and gently coating her bottom lip. Before she set the chocolate to rest. Liz is enchanted by the power she held. Watching as he swallows heavily, the chords in his neck constricting.

The sexual tension was palpable, and it was all her doing, for once.

She smiles before clamping the chocolate between her teeth, the outer shell snapping with a delectable sharp sound. Liz lets loose a subdued moan as the smooth hazelnut center coated her taste buds. "Oh-" Liz purrs, her eyes slipping closed as she savored the velvet texture as the outer chocolate mixed with the creamy center. Melting together, a soft blend of vanilla and almond in the white chocolate as she suspected. She finishes off the other half, and unabashedly licks the lingering chocolate from her fingers.

Red cleared his throat and tore his gaze from her, handing her the box gently. "Don't you want any Red?" Liz questions. Observing his pupils that were enlarged, desire plainly evident, an effect from her little display of chocolate bliss. "I would feel extremely guilty if I deprived you that kind of pleasure..."

Red's lips split into a cat like grin, "Oh, Lizzie," he emits her name, a seductive hiss of a snake before striking, the deep vibrato sending a chill down her spine. He then began closing more of the limited space between them, everything inside her told her to take a step back. But she held her ground and remained stationary. "Watching you enjoy that, was pleasurable enough." She feels a blush creep it's way across her cheeks, and finds it incredibly hard to look him in the eyes any longer.

The curtain pulls apart, and the ringing of the satellite phone draws Red's focus away from her, "Raymond," Dembe addresses. Liz doesn't miss him surveying their close proximity. "You have to take this." Red nods and accepts the proffered phone. Leaving her in the back of the jet completely flustered.

It takes a while before she moves back to the front of the plane, and even then she couldn't fully look at him without feeling the blush return. So to avoid sitting in awkward tension, Liz rests her head against the cool glass of the window, and forces herself to sleep.

_0o0o0_

Dawn was just breaking when they entered the city of Innsbruck. The long and winding roads that led from where they stood in Vienna for the night, to where they are now had Liz's stomach turning in knots. But she would sooner be back on that highway, then driving down these narrow streets that made her feel claustrophobic.

Liz took to distracting herself in the Renaissance charm heavily potent in the city. Rows of buildings dressed in a wide array of color. From burnt orange, pale yellows and different shades of green, bright and dull. There were old stone churches, with high steeples that seemed to touch the clouds. Which hung impossibly low, not low enough to lose its shape, or cast a fog. They were just perfectly formed puffs that lingered above everything.

But it was the beauty of the mountains the city was situated between that was the most breathtaking. She watches as the sun rose behind the peaks, brushing the snow dusting the divots in wide strokes of tangerine, canary and a delicate carnation pink accent. The clouds seemed to billow around, like a wave caressing a beach. It was an eternal display of beauty. Liz hums a noise of contentment.

"Believe it or not, the sunsets are better than the sunrises." Red's voice broke through her daze, and she shifts to face him. "There is just something majestic about seeing it lower beyond the broad shoulders of the mountain, relinquishing its power to the night. As the moon rises and the stars shimmer brightly. The appearance of them being so close, you could stand on your toes and pluck them from the sky."

"A part of me is envious of these tiny crevices of the world you have seen Red," Liz speaks softly, and his eyebrow rises in response as he awaits her continuance. "Then the other half remembers why we are here right now. And knows that the reason you have seen all of this... is because between admiring everything the world has to offer, all this unfiltered, innocent beauty. You had to eventually succumb yourself to some filth. It tarnishes the whole thought."

"Wherever there is light, there will always be darkness." Red laughs bitterly quirking his head to the side, causing Liz to cringe lightly. "There have also been times when I have traveled just to travel Lizzie, and if you ever want to see a part of the world without the underlining presence of work... all you have to do is ask."

_0o0o0_

When they pull up in front of the farm house, Liz feels drained. Her body couldn't seem to adjust to the altitude change. It was extremely cold too, and she wasn't even close to being dressed appropriately to combat against it. The wind roared in the distance whipping the snow covered trees around roughly, the rustles echoing loudly for several prolonged seconds. Red rests a hand at the small of her back as he guided her up the path toward the home.

When they approached the crimson door, that stood in high contrast to the pristine white of the house. He raised his fist and knocked in a pattern, three deep pounds one and half seconds apart with the heel of his palm, then two short pulses with the bone of his knuckles. The door then opens, to a burly man with a thick black beard that blended in with his long hair. You couldn't tell where one began and the other stopped, he looked nothing short of a caveman. He was just hair, muscle and honey colored eyes. He had an M16 hanging loosely around him. The tip of the gun pointing to the floor, nonthreatening.

"Raymond," He nods and allows both of them inside. His eyes roamed over Liz from top to bottom, clearly objectifying her. Causing her to squirm uncomfortably. "Is this the girl?" Red nods in response. "While extremely beautiful." he leers, taking a half step forward. "She looks inexperienced... perhaps I-"

"Erik," Red warns and pulls Liz closer to him, wrapping an arm around her waist. "I can assure you, she is highly efficient in her moving abilities." there is a possessive tone in which Red spoke. That causes the message to be well received by Erik who almost instantly diverts his gaze from Liz's chest to Red's stern eyes. She relaxes under Red's arm, and lets out a short breath she didn't realize she was concealing. "Now, lets get this over with. You're already wasting precious time that we just don't have."

She could just faintly feel Red's thumb moving in a side to side motion along her rib. His arm still wrapped firmly around her. He held them back as Erik moved ahead. "Everything will be fine." Red whispered down into her ear. "He's more bark than bite." His arm slid from around her as he walked in the direction Erik headed.

She took a moment to gather herself before following.

They are led through the back of the house, and down into a wine cellar. Both stand and watch as Erik maneuvers around large barrels that are still aging. To the wall behind it stocked with already bottled product. He pulls a lime green bottle from its spot on the wall, there is a clink and then the walls pull apart, revealing a secondary room. Red emits an amused laugh. "Perhaps you should change which bottle triggers the mechanism Erik. It couldn't be more obvious if you stuck a sign in front that read _Pull me_."

Erik scoffs, but doesn't offer any form of defense. He simply waves his arm, signaling them entrance. The walls were covered in weapons, ranging from assault rifles to bazookas. It was an heavy arsenal.

"How much of this is being moved?" Liz questions, and glances around the room.

Erik shakes his head as he moves to the safe, that was already hanging ajar. "None of it. This is what you'll be moving" He shuffles in his squatted position as he grabs something and then stands. "From what I understand this is a missing egg from some collection. I believe it was made for Russian royalty. Or a King or something, I'm not a very cultured man. All I know is it's worth a pretty penny." He smirks as he turns exposing them to the egg.

"There were 50 Imperial Eggs made for the royal family, eight of them went missing... and only three of those were known to survive the Russian Revolution. The first Fabergé egg was crafted for Tsar Alexander III, who had decided to give one to his wife, Empress Maria Feodorovna. In celebration of their twentieth anniversary since their betrothal. It is believed that the Tsar's inspiration for the piece was an egg owned by the Empress's aunt, which captivated Maria's imagination in her early childhood. It was known as the Hen Egg." Red speaks with such a flourish, that Liz and Erik both get lost in his speech.

"Is this the Hen Egg?" Erik asked confused, tilting the egg from side to side as he observed it.

Red simply shook his head and took a step forward. "The Hen Egg, was the first Fabergé egg crafted from gold. Its opaque white enameled shell opened to reveal its first surprise, a matte yellow golden yolk. This in turn opens to reveal a multicolored gold hen that also opened. The hen contained a minute diamond replica of the Imperial Crown, from which a small ruby pendant was suspended. Though those last two elements were lost." Red had them both hypnotized, Liz watched him awestricken. His expansive knowledge of things never ceased in impressing her.

"May I?" He inquires holding his hands out to accept the egg from Erik. Who hands it over with a shrug of his shoulder. Red grins as he held it in his hands. The egg itself was tiny, only a few inches apart and a few inches high. It was golden, decorated with diamonds, and a single sapphire. The stand was silver and gold, that made a sort of two-wheeled wagon and a cherub was pulling it. "Empress Maria was so delighted by the gift that Alexander appointed Fabergé a goldsmith by special appointment to the Imperial Crown and commissioned another egg the next year. After that Peter Carl Fabergé was given complete freedom for future Imperial Easter Eggs, and their designs only became more and more elaborate. According to Fabergé family lore, not even Tsar knew what form they would take... the only requirement was that the eggs contained a surprise."

"So, which one is this?" Erik was quickly losing interest in Red's history of the Fabergé egg.

"If I am correct," Red muses setting the egg down on the top of the safe. Proceeding by reaching forward with his finger tipping the top half of the egg back. It opened willingly, and Red slipped his fingers inside, pulling a clock forward. The hands of the clock were frozen on the roman numerals, at 9:15. "What you are holding is of precious value Erik. This is the lost, and less documented Cherub with Chariot." Red hums. "How did it come to be in your possession?"

"The details don't particularly matter Red," Erik runs a hand through his hair, almost nervously. His whole body language changing in a not so subtle instant. "Its worth upwards of 30 million from what I understand."

Red carefully pushes the clock back down and closes the egg. "And what does she receive out of this?" Red nods in her direction.

"What does she want to receive from it?" Erik's eyebrows raise, as he regard the both of them.

"Erik," Liz takes a step forward. "You have information on someone, and I would willingly trade the information for the moving of the artifact. You can keep the money."

"Who?" Erik's arms cross over his chest defensively, the M16 swaying in the movement.

"Hank Spieling."

"What would you possibly need from Hank Spieling?" Erik looks dumbfounded.

"_The details don't particularly matter,_ Erik." Liz tosses his words straight back at him. Narrowing her eyes sharply, and taking large strides toward him, stealing his personal space. Red looked amused as he quietly watched the exchange. "Where is he?"

Erik exhales sharply, and takes a step backward. "If I told you... it didn't come from me."

"Something tells me Hank won't be of concern after she's done." Red mentions, tinkering with his cufflinks. "Tick-tock Erik."

"Last I heard he was somewhere in Japan."

"That doesn't help, narrow down where _somewhere_ entails. Or Red and I walk." Liz turns on her heel when Erik doesn't offer anything else. She takes a whopping two steps before Erik reaches and grips her arm.

"Tokyo... there is a noodle shop in the downtown area. I don't know the name of it, but beneath the dining area is where he runs his organization," He releases her arm "That's all I know."

_0o0o0_

"Looks like you'll be seeing that sunset after all." Red winks while pulling out her seat, he then pushed it back in gently once she occupied it.

"Are you going to steal the egg Red? Is that what this was all about?" Liz watches as he falters in his movement before taking his seat beside her. His eyes set on the mountain, and the slowly descending sun.

"It wasn't his to begin with." Red offers meagerly. Unbuttoning the button of his vest, so he could recline in the chair comfortably without the material binding to him.

"Was it yours? Because if it isn't something he stole from you. I don't see the justification in stealing it now." Liz stares at him, and his unwavering face. The purple of the sky dancing upon his features.

"Watch the sunset Lizzie." he rasps lowly.

"Do you always have to be such an evasive ass?" She huffs, and can see the ghost of a smile play upon his lips. She rolls her eyes when he still refused to grant her the confirmation she sought. There really wasn't the need for a verbalization anyway, his silence was enough.

So she turns forward, and watches as the sun fell from the skyline. The deep blood orange setting the mountain ablaze.

The sprinkling of stars peaking out as the moon set in its place and washed half the city in silver fighting against the dwindling fire of the sun.

The sunsets really did rival the sunrises.

* * *

AN: This was a quick little one-shot that popped out of no where.

Red's words on the Fabergé egg came directly from the Wiki, I knew not of their history and lore, but I thought it would be a fun thing for him to be interested in. As always, no BETA so mistakes are all mine. Leave a review if you do feel so, I love reading your opinions.

Thanks for reading!

- Red Herring


End file.
